By 1963, Studebaker was already doomed, but its dynamic president, Sherwood Egbert, was not yet ready to admit defeat. Not only did he launch the sporty Avanti, he hired Andy Granatelli to develop a series of hot engines that transformed the humble compact Studebaker Lark into a ferocious — and unlikely — performance car. This is the story of the Lark and Super Lark.

FALSE DAWN

Studebaker has a venerable history: The Studebaker brothers of South Bend, Indiana, began manufacturing wagons in 1852 and the Studebaker Brothers Manufacturing Company sold its first cars in 1902. In 1910, the company bought out Detroit automaker Everitt-Metzger-Flanders (E-M-F), reorganizing the following year as the Studebaker Corporation. Although Studebaker was now firmly in the automobile business, they still produced horse-drawn wagons until after World War I.

Like most automakers, Studebaker fell on hard times during the Great Depression, leading to bankruptcy in 1933 and the suicide of president Albert Erskine. Erskine’s lieutenants Paul Hoffman and Harold Vance managed to revive the company by the late thirties, thanks in large part to the very successful 1939 Studebaker Champion.

Studebaker was, as its advertising proclaimed, the first to introduce an all-new postwar car: the 1947 “coming or going” models designed by Virgil Exner. Under the leadership of Harold Vance, the company had its best-ever sales years in 1949–1950 and did well in the early fifties. Between 1947 and 1953, Vance managed to double Studebaker’s gross sales and earn profits totaling $108 million. Studebaker had a modern V8 engine and automatic transmission in 1951 and in 1953 unveiled the beautiful Starlight and Starliner coupes, styled by the design firm of Raymond Loewy.

Even then, dark clouds were settling in. Studebaker remained undercapitalized and its South Bend factory had been obsolescent even before the war. The company had avoided most the strikes that had often paralyzed other automakers, but its labor costs per car were higher than any rival. Studebaker cars were not exactly over-engineered, but the company spent some 25% more to build each car than it would have cost Chevrolet.

With its higher costs, Studebaker was particularly vulnerable to the vicious price war between Ford and Chevrolet between 1953 and 1956. Determined to claim the No. 1 slot in overall sales, Ford and Chevrolet stepped up production, which led dealers to slash prices — and margins — to the bone just to move the metal. (The aggressive sales push later led to congressional hearings and a federal grand jury investigation of allegations that the automakers had forced dealers to accept extra cars.) Since Studebaker’s margins were already slimmer than Chevrolet’s or Ford’s, Studebaker could not afford to keep up and its sales plummeted. By early 1953, Studebaker was losing $2.5 million a month.

THE PACKARD MERGER

Luxury automaker Packard was also on the skids in the early fifties. The price war had affected Packard almost as badly as it had Studebaker and Hudson and its old rival Cadillac had eclipsed it in sales and prestige. While it had previously been the most elite of American automakers, by 1953, Packard was looking old-fashioned.

Packard management felt that what the company needed was volume. Since the advent of the One-Twenty in 1935, Packard had moved into the near-luxury class then dominated by Buick, but at the cost of much of its former prestige, something new Packard president James Nance was eager to rectify.

Although Studebaker had higher volume, a bigger dealer network, and a lower price point than Packard did, the South Bend firm was not Nance’s first choice. Nance preferred was Kenosha, Wisconsin’s Nash Motors, whose president, George W. Mason, been proposing a merger of the independents since 1946. Nance’s predecessor, Hugh Ferry, had begun negotiations with Mason to create such an alliance, which they hoped would eventually include Packard, Nash, Studebaker, and Hudson.

In January 1954, Nash and Hudson agreed to merge, reforming as the American Motors Corporation in May. For a time, it seemed that Packard might join them, but its board was wary of AMC, recognizing that the new company would end the year deep in the red. In February, the Packard board refused to even hear George Mason’s merger proposal, opting instead to pursue a merger with Studebaker, independent of AMC.

By September, the Packard and Studebaker boards had approved the formation of a new Studebaker-Packard corporation effective October 1. Jim Nance became president of the merged company, with former Studebaker president Paul Hoffman becoming chairman of the new board of directors. Nine days later, George Mason died, leaving his vice president, George Romney, as the president of AMC. Romney and Nance were both relatively young and very ambitious and it quickly became clear that they could not coexist happily. By mid-October, Romney told the press that AMC did not expect any other mergers.

The Studebaker-Packard marriage almost immediately turned sour. In their eagerness, Packard had not requested an independent audit of Studebaker’s books, which proved to be a grievous mistake. Shortly after the merger, Packard finance VP Walter Grant determined that Studebaker’s financial position was far more precarious than they had assumed. Grant estimated Studebaker’s break-even production level not at 165,000 units, as the company’s proxy statement had asserted, but 282,000, a level Studebaker had only reached at its 1950 peak. Studebaker fell well short of even the lower figure for 1954.

That depressing revelation might have given Packard grounds to dissolve the deal (or perhaps even file a false conveyance suit), but by that point, Packard’s own financial situation was precarious and the Packard board believed that the partnership with Studebaker was their only hope for survival. They decided to stay the course.

Even with substantial combined tax credits, Studebaker-Packard lost $26 million for 1954. Nance and Hoffman initiated a painful cost-cutting program, which included the termination of Raymond Loewy’s consulting agreement and the hiring of Lincoln-Mercury designer Bill Schmidt as VP of styling and Ford designer Duncan McRae as Studebaker chief-stylist. Nance and Hoffman also negotiated a new UAW contract, the bitter negotiations for which led to Studebaker’s first really protracted strike. All these moves failed to stem Studebaker-Packard’s losses, which totaled $29.7 million for 1955.

CURTISS-WRIGHT

Nance had high hopes for an all-new body planned for the 1957 model year, which was to be shared by both Studebakers and Packards. Unfortunately, the company didn’t have the $50 million needed for tooling and the corporation’s principal backers refused to extend the necessary credit. Two different management consulting firms looked at the Studebaker-Packard’s financial situation and recommended liquidation.

Increasingly desperate, Nance turned to the aviation company Curtiss-Wright, which was then earning formidable profits from its defense contracts. Curtiss-Wright chairman Roy Hurley (a former Ford manufacturing executive) was not interested in a merger, but floated the idea of a management agreement. Hurley offered Studebaker-Packard $10 million for Studebaker’s remaining defense contracts and $25 million for a prepaid rental of company facilities in Michigan and Indiana as well as a three-year agreement for him to manage Studebaker-Packard’s business. In exchange, Curtiss-Wright would receive options to purchase 45% of Studebaker-Packard’s stock for around $40 million less than market value.

It was not a particularly attractive deal for Studebaker-Packard, but Nance had no choice. The company’s 1956 losses ultimately totaled $102.3 million and it was losing 40 to 50 dealer franchises a month. With Hurley’s help, Nance had to tap the last $15.3 million of Packard’s revolving credit lines just to keep the doors open during the negotiations. The Studebaker-Packard board signed the deal in July 1956.

Nance resigned as soon as the deal was signed, joining Ford Motor Company that fall; Paul Hoffman also departed. Hurley named chief engineer Harold Churchill as president with Eugene Hardig taking Churchill’s place as engineering chief.

Packard’s fate was sealed as soon as Nance departed. In retrospect, it probably would have been the easier of the two brands to salvage, but Hurley and the board were counting on Studebaker’s ostensibly greater volume and Packard had lost its engine and transmission plant in the Curtiss-Wright deal. Packard endured two final, ignominious model years as an over-decorated Studebaker and then disappeared for good.

The Packard Hawk was a rehash of the Studebaker Golden Hawk, inspired — if we may call it that — by the contemporary Maserati 3500 GT. Duncan McRae originally designed this car as a one-off for Curtiss-Wright president Roy Hurley, but it was eventually pressed into service as a Packard. Fewer than 600 were sold before the curtain came down. Interestingly, the Hawk also had a McCulloch-supercharged Studebaker 289 (4,737 cc) engine. With a two-barrel Stromberg carburetor and slightly less boost than the later R2 (5 psi/0.34 bar), it was rated at 275 hp (205 kW).

Studebaker’s volume, meanwhile, was sinking rapidly. Its 1958 sales were less than 60,000 units and Studebaker-Packard lost $24.5 million in 1957-58. Studebaker’s major problem, aside from an understandable shortage of public confidence, was that all designers Duncan McCrae and Vince Gardner could afford were increasingly desperate rehashes of the 1953 body shell. It was no longer selling, but Studebaker-Packard could not afford to replace it.

The only upside during this period was that Studebaker-Packard negotiated a deal to become the new U.S. distributor for Mercedes-Benz, succeeding Max Hoffman’s Hoffman Motors in the spring of 1957. There was little financial benefit, since Studebaker-Packard had no real idea how to sell Mercedes cars, but it would prove fortuitous.

THE STUDEBAKER LARK

In 1957, AMC chairman George Romney abandoned the Nash and Hudson brands in favor of the compact Rambler. That fall, with the country slipping into recession, sales of the 1958 Ramblers picked up sharply even as most other car lines took a bath. The market was suddenly shifting toward compacts and economy cars.

Many of Studebaker’s 1957–58 sales were of a stripped-down base model called Scotsman, so Harold Churchill concluded that the new interest in economy cars might represent a viable direction for Studebaker. Using scrap material, Gene Hardig quickly slapped together a crude prototype of a compact sedan — essentially a 1953 Champion body shorn of more than two feet (70 cm) of front and rear overhang. The wheelbase was trimmed to 108.5 inches (2,756 mm), transforming a nominally full-size car into a compact. To complete the picture, Hardig added a wraparound windshield from the 1955 models and various interior pieces from 1956–57 Studebakers. It was an improvisation, but a clever one, producible at very low cost.

Churchill persuaded the board to approve this new compact for the 1959 model year. It was a big gamble: Other than the Studebaker Hawk coupe (itself a derivative of the 1953 Starlight coupe), the move meant the company would no longer have any full-size models. Still, Studebaker had little to lose and a similar strategy seemed to be working for AMC.

Duncan McCrae’s team hastily created a pair of clay models developed by Bill Bonner and Bob Doehler. The design ultimately chosen was Bonner’s, which got some additional styling input from Virgil Exner, Jr., son of the designer of the 1947 Studebaker Starlight. The new compact’s careful agglomeration of existing parts was set off by a new front end with a simple upright grille. Historians typically call it Mercedes-like, but Exner says it was more influenced by his father’s Chrysler show cars of the mid-fifties and Chevrolet’s not-yet-released Corvair, of which the stylists were already aware. The need to keep costs low limited the compact to a very modest level of trim, which made it refreshingly understated by contemporary American standards.

Mechanically, the compact, which the company dubbed the Studebaker Lark, was all too familiar, although Hardig managed to make the shortened Champion frame both stiffer and lighter than before. The standard engine was a heavily revised, 170 cu. in. (2,780 cc) version of Studebaker’s familiar flathead six with 90 hp (67 kW). A 259 cu. in. (4,247 cc) version of the corporate V8 was optional, offering up to 195 gross horsepower (146 kW). The Lark’s handling was nothing special even for the time, but the stubby little car had adequate power and reasonable fuel economy.

A first-year Studebaker Lark hardtop powered by the basic Skybolt Six. A de-stroked version of the six used on Studebakers since 1955, it displaced 170 cu. in. (2,780 cc) and made 90 gross horsepower (67 kW). This car is an oddity: It’s the upscale Regal trim series, but other than automatic transmission, it has minimal equipment, lacking even windshield washers.

The Studebaker Lark was ready in only seven months, going on sale in November 1958 as a 1959 model. Like the original Champion of 20 years earlier, it proved to be the right car at the right time. The press was underwhelmed, but buyers responded with enthusiasm, quickly placing some 30,000 initial orders. Everyone knew that the Big Three were preparing compact cars, but those were still at least a year away. In the meantime, Studebaker and Rambler were in the catbird seat.

Thanks to the Lark, Studebaker’s 1959 volume swelled to 160,826 cars and 10,909 trucks, allowing the company to break even for the first time since the merger. Studebaker-Packard made a profit of $28.5 million that year. With the tax credits accumulated from the previous years’ losses, S-P’s after-tax net profits were the highest in Studebaker history.

Better still, Studebaker-Packard was now free of Curtiss-Wright, thanks in large part to Daimler-Benz. Daimler management was not thrilled with Studebaker-Packard’s efforts to market Mercedes, but they mistrusted Hurley and they concluded that Curtiss-Wright’s continued involvement was not in their long-term interests. In August 1958, Daimler-Benz and Studebaker-Packard persuaded Curtiss-Wright to end its management agreement a year early and relinquish its unexercised stock options. The Studebaker-Packard board also managed to refinance the company’s long-term debt.

Back in the black, free of Hurley’s management, and with nearly 1,000 new dealers, the company’s fortunes looked brighter for 1960.

DIVERSIFICATION

It was obvious to any informed observer that the Studebaker Lark was at best a stopgap, a temporary reprieve. The designers, in particular, were aware that the Big Three were about to arrive in the compact sector in force. Duncan McCrae pushed strongly to invest the profits from the Lark into an all-new body. When Churchill equivocated, McCrae immediately resigned. Churchill eventually authorized development of two new compacts modeled loosely on the Rambler and Rambler American, but this did not suit the Studebaker-Packard board members, many of whom were coming to the conclusion that the automobile business was a losing proposition.

In 1960, faced with new competition from the Chevrolet Corvair, Ford Falcon, and Valiant, Lark sales fell slightly despite new convertible and station wagon models. Studebaker’s total sales, including trucks, dropped to 133,984. (Some cars and trucks, including the Lark, were also produced in CKD kit form for local assembly overseas, at plants in Argentina, Australia, New Zealand, Belgium, South Africa, the Philippines, and Israel, in the former Kaiser-Frazer plant in Haifa.) The company still turned a profit, but it was a meager $708,850.

Brooks Stevens redesigned the Studebaker Lark in 1962 on a shoestring budget, adding dual headlights and a Mercedes-inspired grille. The 1963 models got a new grille and the previous wraparound windshield was deleted. You could order either a 259 cu. in. (4,247 cc) or 289 cu. in. (4,737 cc) V8, but buyers preferred the 170 cu. in. (2,780 cc) Skybolt Six with 112 hp (84 kW). Transmission choices were three-speed stick (with or without overdrive), a Borg-Warner three-speed automatic, or a four-speed manual, added in 1962.

Churchill wanted to stay in the car business, but the board decided to use the 1959–60 profits to diversify, buying a range of companies like the Gravely lawnmower company and an engine-treatment manufacturer called Chemical Compounds, which made the STP engine treatment. The board ousted Churchill in the fall of 1960 and hired Sherwood Egbert from the McCulloch Corporation to replace him. The new compact-car programs were canceled even though the company had already spent more than $4 million on them.

The diversification proved to be a sensible business decision. Although Studebaker sales fell to 92,434 for 1961, profits from the corporation’s non-automotive subsidiaries put them $2.5 million in the black.

The Studebaker Lark’s Super Lark package included a 6,000-rpm tachometer; the Lark also has full gauges rather than warning lights. Two-tone vinyl upholstery was part of the Custom trim line, although this car has the optional bucket seats and the Borg-Warner T-10 four-speed, a $189 option.

An interesting Studebaker accessory was this nifty drop-down glovebox tray with cupholders and a pop-up vanity mirror. This was standard on all 1963 Studebaker Larks except the base-model Standard. Another option, which this car does not have, was the “Skytop” canvas sunroof, an unusual feature for an American car of this era (albeit quite common on British cars).

THE EGBERT INITIATIVE

Sherwood Egbert is often described as a sort of industrial version of John F. Kennedy: young, tall, and handsome, a charismatic ex-Marine who had already had an impressive career as executive vice president of the McCulloch Corporation. Egbert knew little about cars, but as soon as he became president of Studebaker-Packard in January 1961, he threw himself into the business with relish.

If the board had expected Egbert to prepare the Studebaker division for a quiet euthanasia, they were sorely mistaken. Egbert’s ignorance of the automotive business gave him a naïve confidence that he could turn the flagging automaker around. His first move was to hire industrial designer Brooks Stevens, with whom he’d worked at McCulloch, to restyle the 1962 cars on a miniscule budget of $7 million. Stevens, taking it as a challenge, came up with an adroit facelift in only six months. Studebaker Lark sales increased by nearly 30,000 units.

Among Stevens’ clever ideas was shifting the four-door Lark sedans to the longer 113-inch (2,870mm) wheelbase previously used only by the station wagons, leaving the two-door models on a slightly longer 109-inch (2,769mm) wheelbase. (GM would later adopt this split-wheelbase strategy for its A-body intermediates.) A new sporty Daytona model, Studebaker’s answer to the popular Corvair Monza and Falcon Futura, joined the Lark line-up that year, as did a plush four-door Cruiser.

The original Studebaker Lark was only 175 inches (4,445 mm) long, actually a few inches shorter than a Rambler American. The 1963 two-doors were 184 inches (4,674 mm) on a 109-inch (2,769mm) wheelbase; four-doors were 4 inches (102 mm) longer in both dimensions. Larks were available in Standard, Regal, Custom, Daytona, and Cruiser models in 1963. A two-door Lark Custom Eight like this one had a base price of $2,315. Equipped like this one, the Lark weighed about 3,250 lb (1,474 kg) and cost over $3,500, a lot of money for a compact in 1963.

Egbert may not have known much about cars, but he liked sports cars — in fact, he owned a gullwing Mercedes 300SL coupe. He decided that the best way to perk up Studebaker’s image was to launch a new high-performance flagship. He hired Raymond Loewy to design one, which emerged as the fiberglass-bodied Studebaker Avanti.

Egbert knew that sporty looks alone would not make the Avanti a sports car; it needed a new image. To solve that problem, Egbert called another contact from his days at McCulloch: Andy Granatelli of Paxton Products, builders of the most popular automotive supercharger of the era.

THE MCCULLOCH SUPERCHARGER

Supercharging is one of the simplest ways to get more power out of an existing engine. Automotive superchargers had been used at least as far back as 1902, although their popularity with manufacturers had waxed and waned. However, they had been popular with the aftermarket since at least the early 1930s.

Back in 1937, Robert Paxton McCulloch’s McCulloch Engineering Company developed a belt-driven centrifugal supercharger for Ford flathead V8s. Although it was moderately popular, selling around 5,000 units, reliability problems led McCulloch to discontinue the street version in 1940, although the company continued to manufacture superchargers for military use during the war.

Bob McCulloch sold his company to Borg-Warner in 1943, but after the war, he established a new McCulloch Motors Corporation, based in Los Angeles. Although the company focused primarily on lawnmower and chainsaw engines, McCulloch continued to develop the supercharger, setting up the Paxton Engineering division to work on that and other experimental projects. In the late forties, Paxton engineer John Oehrli developed a new centrifugal supercharger with an unique ball bearing drive system (a set of hardened steel ball bearings allowed the output shaft — which operated the compressor — to turn 4.4 times faster than the input shaft, which was driven by a belt from the engine). The result, known as the VS57, was offered first as an aftermarket accessory for 1950–1953 Ford V8s and later for a wide range of other engines.

McCulloch was interested in bigger things, so the McCulloch VS57 supercharger got a big push at the Pan American Motorama in late 1953, followed by a lavish presentation to the Society of American Engineers (SAE) in January 1954. Later that month, Kaiser announced that it would offer the supercharger as factory equipment on Kaiser cars. McCulloch went so far as to arrange an hour-long television special about the supercharger on a local L.A. station — partly narrated by Sherwood Egbert, then McCulloch’s vice president. McCulloch subsequently launched the Paxton Products division to market automotive superchargers.

One of Paxton’s earliest customers was none other than Studebaker-Packard, which bought 15,000 superchargers for the Packard Hawk coupe in 1957. (Ford also purchased a small number of Paxton-McCulloch VR57 variable-ratio superchargers for NASCAR homologation, which were installed in a few hundred “F-code” Thunderbirds and other Ford models.)

Unfortunately, the VS57’s reliability was not as impressive as its performance, due in part to quality-control problems with the ball bearing drive system and in part to the fact that the blower required more maintenance than most owners bothered to give it. Those problems soon soured Detroit on factory supercharging, although the VS57 remained a popular aftermarket item. It also saw a fair amount of racing use, although NASCAR banned supercharging in April 1957.

The Studebaker Super Lark’s R2 engine was developed for the Avanti, as the badges on the fenders indicate. R1 cars say “Avanti Powered” instead.

In 1957, racing impresario and hot rodder Anthony (Andy) Granatelli and his brothers moved from Chicago to Los Angeles and began working with Paxton chief engineer John Thompson to resolve the McCulloch supercharger’s reliability problems. By then, the company was losing faith with the Paxton division, which had lost more than $400,000 in 1957, due mostly to high warranty costs. Granatelli bought the division from McCulloch in June 1958. He and his brothers Joe and Vince helped to develop a new series of improved SN (“Short Nose”) superchargers, which again became popular with amateur and professional racers.

JET THRUST

Sherwood Egbert had worked with Andy Granatelli at McCulloch and had been impressed with Granatelli’s engineering acumen and business savvy. In March 1962, Egbert arranged for Studebaker to buy Paxton Products and with it the services of the Granatelli brothers. The morning after the deal was signed, Egbert called Granatelli at 4 a.m. and began laying out his ambitious goals for Studebaker performance. Granatelli and Gene Hardig immediately got to work hot-rodding the Studebaker V8 for the Avanti, using every trick in Granatelli’s voluminous book.

Studebaker’s V8, introduced back in 1951, was heavy by contemporary standards and had a reputation for excessive oil consumption, but it was a sturdy and generally reliable engine. Hardig had already developed a hotter R1 version (later advertised as “R1 Jet Thrust”) with 10.25:1 compression and various changes to its oiling system, ignition, timing gear, and breathing. This was somewhat more powerful than the regular 289 “Powerpak” engine already optional on the Studebaker Lark, which made 225 gross horsepower (168 kW). There was also the R2 (advertised as “R2 Super Jet Thrust”), which had different heads with 9.0:1 compression and a Paxton SN-60 supercharger making up to 6 pounds (0.41 bars) of boost.

Hardig and Granatelli subsequently developed R3, R4, and R5 versions, which were assembled mostly by hand in the Granatelli brothers’ Los Angeles workshop. Each used specially selected blocks, carefully bored out to 304.5 cu. in. (4,990 cc). The R3 was supercharged like the R2, but had a new aluminum intake manifold with no heat riser, low-restriction exhaust headers, 9.75:1 compression, and a hotter camshaft. The R4 was similar, but was normally aspirated with dual four-barrel carburetors and a 12.0:1 compression ratio. The experimental R5, never seriously intended for production, had dual superchargers and Bendix fuel injection. Only 120 to 125 R3 and R4 engines were built and only a handful went into production cars.

The heart of the Studebaker R2 Super Jet Thrust engine: a Paxton SN-60 fixed-ratio centrifugal supercharger. This is similar to the unit later offered on the GT-350 Mustang. On the Studebaker 289 cu. in. (4,737 cc) V8, it was worth an additional 49 hp (37 kW) over the normally aspirated R1, despite the R2’s lower compression ratio, and added about 55 lb (25 kg) to the already-heavy engine. The supercharger could be troublesome, particularly if owners did not change its oil (Dexron automatic transmission fluid) at the specified intervals.

You’ll notice that we haven’t quoted any horsepower numbers for these cars. When Studebaker introduced the R1 and R2 engines, their power and torque outputs were left blank on the official specifications table. The likely reason was that those figures weren’t very impressive compared to the Avanti’s principal competitors, particularly the Corvette, whose top engine was rated at 360 gross horsepower (269 kW). Finally, very late in 1963 (well into the 1964 model year), Studebaker belatedly announced ratings of 240 gross horsepower (179 kW) for the R1, 289 hp (216 kW) for the R2, 335 hp (250 kW) for the R3, and 280 hp (209 kW) for the R4.

Although intended for the Avanti, the point of the exercise was to add luster to the entire Studebaker line. Therefore, when the R1 and R2 engines debuted, they became optional on the Studebaker Lark and GT Hawk, priced at $210 for the R1 and $372 for the R2. (The R3, which also included extensive chassis modifications, cost over $1,000, part of the reason it was rarely ordered.) Buyers could also specify heavy-duty suspension, a tachometer, and a new Studebaker option: front disc brakes. Made by Bendix under license from Lockheed, these brakes were functionally identical to those of contemporary Jaguars. At the time, no other U.S. manufacturer offered discs; even the Corvette wouldn’t get them until 1965.

These discreet badges were the only exterior warning of the supercharged Studebaker Lark’s potential. An R2-powered Super Lark was not the fastest car in America in 1963, but its acceleration and top speed put it in with some very elite company.

Unlike most of its compact brethren, the Studebaker Lark had been available with a V8 from the start — the Ford Falcon, Plymouth Valiant, and Dodge Dart wouldn’t have a V8 until 1963. Since 1962, the Lark had also beeen available with a four-speed transmission, the same Borg-Warner T-10 found in contemporary Corvettes. A Lark with the non-R-series 289 (4,737 cc) engine and four-speed was already fairly quick. With the R1 or R2, it became something else entirely.

STUDEBAKER SUPER LARK

Studebaker initially did not promote the availability of the Jet Thrust engines in the Lark. Unless a buyer carefully perused the catalog, those options were easy to miss. Studebaker’s reluctance to promote the R1 and R2 engines in the regular cars may have been out of a fear of overshadowing the Avanti, which was off to a very slow start. The fiberglass coupe had been announced in May 1962, but production issues had delayed its actual introduction and eventual sales were slow. Part of the problem was that in recent years, Studebaker dealers had made their living selling economy cars, not sporty performance, and few salesmen really understood or even cared about the Avanti or the hot engines.

In March 1963, Andy Granatelli took a couple of R2-equipped Studebaker Larks, GT Hawks, and Avantis to the Bonneville Salt Flats for speed trials. A supercharged Lark with a 3.31 axle reached a top speed of 132 mph (213 km/h), an impressive performance for any stock sedan of the time.

Most Super Lark packages were ordered with the sportier Daytona hardtop, but the package (and the R1 and R2 engines individually) were available on any Studebaker Lark, even the basic Standard. The pillared two-door sedan may not have been as sporty as the hardtop, but it was stiffer and some 100 lb (45 kg) lighter.

In April, Studebaker belatedly introduced a special performance package for the Lark, naturally called Super Lark. It was not a separate model, but an option package available on any Studebaker Lark. (A similar package was offered for the Hawk.) It included either the R1 or R2 engine, a Dana 44 limited-slip rear axle (which Studebaker called Twin-Traction), front disc brakes, a new gauge cluster with a tachometer, and the heavy-duty suspension package developed for the Avanti, with front and rear anti-roll bars and trailing links to supplement the standard rear leaf springs. The total package was not cheap — the R2 package cost $680.02 on a Custom sedan like our photo subject, which didn’t include the four-speed manual, an extra $188.30 — but it made the Lark a fearsome performer. The Lark’s handling still left much to be desired even with the heavy-duty suspension, but only a handful of street cars could match its straight-line speed. A four-speed Super Lark R2 was capable of 0-60 mph (0-97 km/h) in a bit over 7 seconds and the quarter mile (402 meters) in the 15-second range despite an obstructive shift linkage. Even with the optional “Powrshift” Borg-Warner automatic, Car Life clocked a supercharged Lark Daytona at 0-60 mph (0-97 km/h) in 7.8 seconds and ran the standing quarter in 16.2 seconds at 87 mph (140 km/h). Inevitably, a Lark so equipped was no longer an economy car; Motor Trend‘s R2 Super Lark averaged a mediocre 13 mpg (18 L /100 km).

The lack of factory horsepower ratings kept the Super Lark out of the NHRA’s drag-racing stock classes, which were based on advertised horsepower and shipping weight. It’s unclear if that was intentional, but it probably robbed Studebaker of a certain amount of publicity.

The Studebaker Lark’s Super Lark package included a Dana 44 rear axle (familiar for years to off-roaders) and limited-slip differential. Studebaker-Packard was the first American manufacturer to popularize the limited-slip differential, which they called “Twin Traction,” starting in 1956. We believe the standard axle ratio with the R2 engine was 3.73 to one, but 3.31, 3.54, 4.09, and 4.55 ratios were optional.

THE BOTTOM OF THE BARREL

The company could have used the good press because sales of the Studebaker Lark dropped to 74,201 for 1963, down nearly 20,000 units from 1962. Lark buyers were apparently unimpressed by the Super Lark. They bought Larks because they were economical and relatively cheap, not for their performance. (Much the same was true of the Big Three compacts. As popular as the sporty-looking Ford Falcon Futura was, for example, the V8-powered Futura Sprint was a flop and only about 25% of Valiant and Dart buyers opted for a V8.) Former Studebaker employee Fred Bartz recalls that dealers had a great deal of trouble selling the supercharged cars even when they bothered to order them. The Studebaker Avanti, meanwhile, had turned out to be an expensive sales disaster, selling only 4,643 units in two model years.

The 1964 Lark wasn’t looking any more promising despite another Brooks Stevens facelift that made it look rather like a Lancia Fulvia Berlina. Studebaker’s automotive division lost over $25 million in 1963. Even with the profits from the other divisions, it still added up to a $16.9 million net loss.

Sherwood Egbert was by then a very sick man. He had been diagnosed with stomach cancer, and while he tried to work through it, he was repeatedly hospitalized. In November 1963, Studebaker announced that he was on an indefinite medical leave of absence, convalescing in Palm Springs.

Brooks Stevens facelifted the Studebaker Lark again for 1964 and that basic design was retained when production moved to Canada, although it got a final facelift by Bob Marck for 1966. Studebaker phased out the Lark name starting in 1964, apparently at Stevens’ suggestion, and it was dropped entirely for 1965. We believe this is a 1965 Studebaker Cruiser, which means it has a Chevrolet engine, either the 194 cu. in. (3,184 cc) six or 283 cu. in. (4,638 cc) V8 also used in Chevrolet trucks.

In his place, the board appointed finance VP Byers Burlingame, a former Packard exec. Burlingame made a last-ditch attempt to obtain financing for new models, but without success. Barely a month after Egbert’s departure, Studebaker shut down production in South Bend.

That might have been the end of the line, but Gordon Grundy, head of Studebaker’s Canadian operation, pointed out that the factory in Hamilton, Ontario, which was Studebaker’s most modern plant, could continue to produce an existing design with a break-even level of only 20,000 units per year. Production tooling for the Studebaker Lark was transferred to Hamilton, although the Hawk and Avanti were dropped, as were Studebaker’s trucks. Studebaker engines were retained for the rest of the 1964 model year, but after that, the company opted to purchase sixes and V8s from Chevrolet.

Historian Rich Taylor later alleged (in a retrospective in Special Interest Autos #25) that the move to Canada was not a serious attempt to continue production, but rather a way to avoid paying franchise termination fees to Studebaker dealers. That theory would not explain why the company continued to pursue additional distribution deals with foreign automakers (including Datsun, Toyota, and Isuzu) or why Studebaker hired Bob Marcks, an ex-Loewy designer, to perform one last facelift for the remaining 1966 Studebaker models. Since Studebaker lost more than $80 million in 1964, including charge-offs for shutting down the South Bend factory, they didn’t have the capital to do much else.

In any case, even the Hamilton factory couldn’t make the Studebaker — no longer called Lark — a viable product. Sales for 1965 were 19,435, followed by only 8,947 cars for the 1966 model year. Production ended in March 1966, although local assembly in some countries (from CKD kits produced in either South Bend or Hamilton) may have continued for a while after that. One source suggests that the last Israeli-built Larks, built in the former Kaiser-Eilin plant in Haifa, weren’t completed until 1967.

This car’s unusual taillight design was Brook Stevens’ trick for disguising the fact that the 1964-1966 Studebaker shares the same body as the 1962–63 cars. A 1965 Studebaker Cruiser sedan had a base price of $2,470 with a six, $2,610 with a V8. It was not a particularly attractive price — the V8 was $233 more than a Chevrolet Chevelle sedan, which had essentially the same engine!

Although Studebaker was out of the automobile business, the company survived, becoming Studebaker-Worthington in 1967. Several of its subsidiaries became very successful, particularly Chemical Compounds, which Andy Granatelli took over late in 1963 and later renamed STP. Studebaker’s last corporate remnant was the Studebaker-Worthington Leasing Company, a subsidiary of State Bank of Long Island, which was bought by Main Street Bank of Texas in 2008.

At the Chicago Auto Show in 2003, the Avanti Motor Corporation announced it would revive the Studebaker name for an SUV, the Avanti Studebaker XUV, but nothing game of it. As of this writing, Michael Kelly, the company’s former owner, is awaiting trial on mail-fraud charges and Avanti apparently stopped producing cars in 2007. As for Paxton, the company, still run by Joe and Vince Granatelli after Andy’s departure, spun off from Studebaker-Worthington in 1974. It briefly dropped its automotive superchargers to focus on industrial applications, but continued to support the older superchargers and returned to the automotive market in 1979. Paxton merged with Vortec in 2001, selling the manufacturing rights to the SN superchargers to Craig Conley’s Paradise Wheels.

Other than the Avanti, which enjoyed a strange second life (as we’ve previously recounted), Studebaker is little remembered today, except perhaps in South Bend, Indiana, which naturally still maintains a Studebaker museum. Nearly 564,000 Studebaker Larks were built in all — though not all of them used the Lark name — but they have become a rare sight today, particularly a supercharged Super Lark like our photo car. We have found no production figures for the R2 Larks, but we have heard estimates as low as 200 and even the most generous guess is not more than a few hundred. According to one source, only one R3 and one R4 Lark were ever built.

We have a particular affection for the Super Lark. With the complete high-performance package, it was essentially an Avanti clad in an unassuming sedan body. Nobody is going to call a Studebaker Lark a sexy car, even compared to the Falcon or Valiant, but it hasn’t been tarnished by aesthetically dubious latter-day knockoffs the way its Avanti sister has. Mechanically, the Lark is a bit crude — its platform and suspension were already dated in 1963 — but that’s part of its charm. It’s a Q-ship, a mean little sleeper capable of embarrassing many faster-looking cars.

Very little would have saved Studebaker by the time the Super Lark was conceived. Even if the Avanti, Super Hawk, and Super Lark had been great successes, we see no way the automaker could have survived much longer than it did. The Avanti and the Jet Thrust cars were a sort of desperate automotive Alamo, driven as much by Egbert’s irrepressible (if groundless) optimism as any coherent strategy. Nonetheless, there’s certainly something to be said for going out in a blaze of glory.

# # #

NOTES ON SOURCES

Our principal sources on the downfall of Studebaker and the origins of the Lark included Thomas Bonsall, More Than They Promised: The Studebaker Story (Chicago, IL: Stanford University Press, 2000); Rich Taylor, “Variations on a Soaring Theme” and “How Studebaker Came Not to Be,” Special Interest Autos #25 (November-December 1974); Fred Fox, “1963 R2 Lark: Studebaker’s Supercharged Sleeper,” Special Interest Autos #57 (June 1980); Ken Gross, “1960 Lark Convertible: How Studebaker beat the Big Three to the compact punch,” Special Interest Autos #42 (November-December 1977). We also consulted the Auto Editors of Consumer Guide, Encyclopedia of American Cars: Over 65 Years of Automotive History, (Lincolnwood, IL: Publications International, 1996); “PERSONNEL: Changes of the Week,” TIME 25 October 1954, www.time. com/ time/magazine/article/0,9171,823618,00.html, accessed 26 December 2009; André Ritizinger, “Studebaker 1963 range,” RitzSite, n.d., ritzsite. nl/ 63Stude/01_63stude.htm, accessed 30 August 2009; and James Arthur Ward, The Fall of the Packard Motor Car Company (Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press, 1995).

We subsequently did additional research into Studebaker’s export business (which included CKD assembly operations in at least six countries), consulting Jim Donnelly, “Clearing the Record,” Hemmings Classic Car December 2007, and “Vanished in Haifa,” Hemmings Classic Car July 2007,; Patrick Foster, “Could Studebaker Have Survived?” Hemmings Classic Car January 2007; “Israel to Assemble 5.000 Studebaker Cars a Year; Some for Export,” Jewish Telegraphic Agency 9 March 1960, archive.jta. org/article/ 1960/ 03/ 09/ 3061942/ israel-to-assemble-5000- studebaker-cars-a-year- some-for-export, accessed 6 September 2011; “Studebaker South Africa,” Bob’s Studebaker Resource Website, 2011, www.studebaker-info. org/Dealers/ studeSA.html, accessed 6 September 2011; the Studebaker page at Coche Argentino, www.cocheargentino. com.ar/s/ studebaker.htm, accessed 6 September 2011; and comments by Milaca, Jim Quigley, NZ George, et al (which reference an article in the September 1993 issue of Turning Wheels, to which we did not have access) at the Studebaker Drivers Club forum, 26-31 May 2010, forum.studebakerdriversclub. com/ archive/index.php?t-41108.html, accessed 6 September 2011. Special thanks to Ronnie Schreiber of Cars in Depth for bringing the Israeli-built Lark to our attention. Ronnie wrote his own article on those cars, “No, the Last Studebaker Ever Did Not Roll Off the Lines in Canada. The Last Stude Had an Israeli Accent,” on 10 August 2011 (www.rokemneedlearts. com/ carsindepth/wordpressblog/?p=3630, accessed 6 September 2011).

This article’s title was suggested by the 1903 George Bernard Shaw play Man and Superman.

30 Comments

I appreciate this version of the history, a little grimmer and more likely realistic to the feeling at the time than the usual heroes-trying-to-save-a-sinking-ship narrative that attaches to Studebaker’s last years. What still pulls me in most about Studebaker from say the ’53 Starlight/Starliner coupes to the end is that somehow a series of designers convinced the company to produce Americanized versions of high-end European cars. I mean Bob Bourke at the Loewy firm for the ’53 models and again when they redid the coupes as the Hawks, Duncan McRae when he wasn’t forced to stick fins on everything, Brooks Stevens with his GT Hawk and Lark versions, and finally Loewy himself with the Avanti. The comment above about the last Lark looking like a Fulvia Berlina is spot on, and in some ways it’s actually a better design. More typically people seem to have been mystified both at the time and until now by how the Hawk was not really a sports car when from the European viewpoint its catgory is clear: 2+2 GT. And yet these cars weren’t simply aping Europe, they maintained a sober but distinctively American feel. Few American sedans of the sixties still look both as modern and as distinguished as a restored Lark Daytona, and none as small.

Funny you should mention the Hawk — that will be coming up in a few weeks. The short answer, of course, is that they weren’t so much building Americanized versions of high-end European cars as they were trying to make increasingly dated American cars [i]look[/i] like high-end European cars. Studebaker-Packard was in such desperate shape that management’s primary concern was how cheaply they could dress up the familiar body shell.

The Stevens GT Hawk is a case in point. It certainly looked like the sort of European GT that Stevens (and, to a lesser and far less sophisticated extent, Sherwood Egbert) liked, but the object of the exercise was to breathe some life into the old Hawk/Starliner body without spending very much on tooling.

If S-P had had a lot more money, enough to afford new body shells, company management might have a lot fussier about making Studebakers look modern and American, but you know what they say about beggars and choosers.

Good to hear the Hawk is coming up. Something that I’m not entirely clear on with the Hawk is the degree to which it really departed from the ’53-’54 coupes, also designed by Bob Bourke at the Loewy firm if I’m not mistaken. In other words, is the Hawk already what the GT Hawk would be even more so, as you say above: a designer-driven euro reskin of an existing platform? Of course the engines got a lot more powerful with the Hawk than they were earlier, but to my eye the design is already fairly soaked in European themes. I mean of course the first year of the Hawks before McRae put those awful fins on them. (Though I guess the fins alone show that management was willing to with any superficial change they thought might drum up sales, and the Euro look was probably sold to them that way by the designers.)

At the same time I wonder about the whole series, as from the figures I’ve seen (assuming they are correct), about 108 thousand of the ’53-’54 coupes were sold, counting the President Speedster (first sign of the new performance focus), while the whole nine year run of the Hawk/GT Hawk only amounted to about 69 thousand cars. Clearly the Euro looks and big engines did little to keep the ship afloat. Even so, if you’ll accept my contention that these should be considered GT cars, 69k still amounts to more GTs than any European marque during the same time apart from Alfa.

[quote]Something that I’m not entirely clear on with the Hawk is the degree to which it really departed from the ’53-’54 coupes, also designed by Bob Bourke at the Loewy firm if I’m not mistaken.[/quote]

The answer is “very, very little.” In fact, the only exterior stamping that’s actually different is the hood, modified to allow the upright grille. Even the fins of the upper-series Hawks were just bolted on to the fins of the ’53-’54 body shell. For that matter, the stampings of the ’62-’63 GT Hawk were also basically the same, save for the new roof. Studebaker had almost no money for new tooling.

The upper-series Hawks always had fins; Bob Bourke added them to the 1956 Golden Hawk. They were definitely not Bourke’s idea (nor were they McRae’s); Ken Elliott, Studebaker-Packard’s VP of sales, insisted on them. None of the designers, either from Loewy’s group or the later S-P in-house team, liked them at all.

The only Studebaker coupe that was really designer driven in the sense you mean was the ’53 Starlight/Starliner (which was not originally intended as a production car). The Hawks, even the GT Hawk, were mostly budget driven. They were certainly influenced by European GTs, in part because those were cars that the stylists personally liked, but the central impetus of those designs was the nonexistent budget. After the Packard merger, the stylists were being told, “We need to make the new models look [i]different[/i], but we have no money for new tooling or sheet metal changes, so make the best of it.” At the same time, there was a lot of pressure from sales to add more brightwork, the fins, etc. It’s not unlike giving a chef $5 and a bag of marshmallows and telling her she has to make dinner for the whole office — the results may be dictated by the chef’s tastes and influences, but the starting parameters are going to have a big impact on the results!

The Studebaker coupes are [i]gran turismos[/i] in the sense that a 1966 Mustang GT is a GT. They [i]look[/i] European, which was intentional, but their road manners are a lot more American than Continental. The late GT Hawks are closer, particularly with the Super Hawk package, but the chassis was still over 10 years old, and it wasn’t particularly sporty when it was new. The supercharged cars (and the Packard-engined ’56 Golden Hawk) were reasonably quick, particularly by European standards, but their handling was nothing special.

in 1962 1963 my father richard ross raced awhite super lark for studebaker it had large #1 and stp on side car was built andy granatelli i always wanted to know what became of car car ran best time of 12.09 at131 dragway

I lived in Hamilton, Ontario, where the Studebaker plant was located.
My dad had a very used 48 Studie with suicide rear doors. This car had an overdrive. Dad forgot it was in overdrive on exiting a newly finished highway. Rolling across the back seat (no seatbelts) Many years later, revealing he thought it was going to roll.
As kids we played in that car when it broke for the last time.
A neighbour worked in the plant and had a very shiny Lark.
At the time, and since, never understood how the company went under.
Quite a story and a good read.
Thanks very much.

That Studebaker could so easily chop the bloated late-50s Champion down to the Lark’s size illustrates the design flexibility of the company’s sedan platform. Out of all of the early-1950s independents, Studebaker was the one that could have most plausibly produced a compact from the same platform as its family car line. (Kaiser toyed with the idea but ultimately went with the distinctly different Henry J.)

This is an important, if often overlooked, point. None of the 1950s independents possessed the economies of scale to keep two distinct bodies competitive. For example, Studebaker had trouble maintaining the freshness of both its sedans and lower-slung coupes even though they shared the same chassis and, at least initially, some body parts (e.g., bumpers, windshields and dashboards).

I’ve read somewhere (Moloney?) that Loewy initially proposed a unit-body compact for 1952. Too bad Studebaker didn’t stick to the bottom of the market rather than move up market with the Loewy coupes and increasingly large sedans. Studebaker might have usurped AMC’s extraordinary success in the late-50s and early-60s.

My father and I currently own a 1966 Studebaker Lark. I would like to know if this is a true lark? I question it because of the emblems that came on the car when we purchased it are from both the lark and possibly the commander. I also need to know if anyone knows where I might be able to locate parts for this car. Not drive train, but mostly cosmetic. ie: trim pieces, suspension parts. Thanks for your time

At least in the U.S. market, the ’66 Studebakers were not officially identified as Larks. A V8 four-door sedan was technically either a Studebaker Eight Commander or Studebaker Eight Cruiser. I don’t know if that was true of non-U.S. models, and of course it’s always possible that either a dealer or a previous owner added them after your car originally left the factory.

As to whether it’s a true Lark, that’s sort of a philosophical question. Structurally, the ’65-’66 cars are still basically facelifts of the Lark shell, although obviously they have Chevy running gear. It’s sort of like the one about the mop: if you replace the mop head and then later replace the mop handle, is it still the same mop?

I’m afraid I can’t be much help regarding parts. That might be a question better addressed to one of the Studebaker clubs or Stude-specific forums elsewhere on the web. Sorry!

I have driven only Studebakers from my first, a 1948 Champion Starlite Coupe that I bought in 1953 till 1989. I still have 5 Studebakers, a 1955 President Hardtop, a 1963 Lark 2-door sedan and 3 Studebaker Avanti’s, all are R-2’s with Paxton Supercharger. One of the Avanti’s is RS-1101 which is the 100th car produced. I have owned a total of 9 Studebakers total and have never bought one new, sorry to say but, but loved every one I ever owned. My favorites were the 1947-1949 Starlite Coupes, the 1953 Starlite Coupes and Starliners and of course the 1963 Avanti. I always wanted to be a car designer and work for Studebaker but didn’t get the chance. Todays car designs are a JOKE.

This article is very informative. I’ve lived in South Bend my entire life (52 yrs.), and have loved the marque ever since I found out that they were made here and my Grandfather worked for Studebaker. Always interested in information about the company and their cars.I hate it when ppl. disseminate inaccurate info under the guise of ‘knowledge’. Can’t wait to see the Super Hawk story!!-Sean M. Henderson,
South Bend,Indidna.

These brief histories of Studebaker are invaribly the same old yawn and dance. All the same theories abound about how this or that killed Studebaker. How this or that design was too little too late, or a rehash of a previous effort. The same could be said for EVERY car maker, had the end been the same. The fact is had Studebaker been part of the big 3, or perhaps the big 2, everything they built would have sold like hotcakes. Deep pockets were all that was needed. Cadillac would have expired long, long ago if not for GM propping up that division. Cadillac has been a dead brand for over 30 years, likewise Lincoln. “Chemical Compounds, which Andy Granatelli took over late in 1963 and renamed STP”. Among other tidbits in this story is this one, which is an outright lie. STP existed well back into the early 60’s. I have an original can and it is marked ‘Division of Studebaker-Packard Corporation’ which dates it 1962, or earlier.

You’re incorrect about STP. The STP [i]product[/i] existed in the early ’60s — it was invented in 1954 — but the company that made it was then formally known as the Chemical Compounds Division of Studebaker-Packard Corporation, originally based in St. Joseph, Missouri. That’s how it’s described in Studebaker’s August 5, 1963, press release on Andy Granatelli’s appointment, which is reproduced in full on pp. 229-230 of Granatelli’s memoir, [i]They Call Me Mister 500[/i], citation data for which is in the sources. Chemical Compounds was later renamed the STP Corporation, which went public in 1969.

My dad got a call from Pete Shepard of Shepard Studebaker here in Cincinnati about an R2 Super Lark that a customer backed out on. He drove it and he bought it. His had the 3:73 ratio and he had a lot of fun street racing his ultimate sleeper. It was time for a valve job which Pete Shepard was going to do himself but another mechanic got a hold of it and my dad said it never ran the same. He traded it in 67 for the new Camaro. A lot of people make fun of Stude’s but they don’t know they were great car’s.

Have my dad’s 1963 superlark in my garage. He bought it new in April, 1963 and it’s been sitting there since 1980. Depending on condition would sell as they are rare nowdays. Someone would either keep it original or change all the drivetrain to a ratrod for modern parts and reliability, plus maybe upgrade the interior to leather seating.

Fascinating story. It’s too bad that, despite the best intentions, and the best efforts on everyone’s part, Studebaker failed to stay afloat. I used to know someone who had a 1960 Studebaker Lark VIII 4 door Sedan. It was an oxidised blue. It had a 4.2 litre V8 (259 cu in.) engine, seating for six adults comfortably. I don’t know exactly what the gross or net horsepower ratings were for the engine, but at the time, I didn’t really care. I found that it rode quite well. It handled good. It looked good, and it stopped good. Seeing a Studebaker Lark in person gave me something of a newfound respect for Studebaker cars I never had before. Prior to seeing a 1959 Lark, I thought that all Studebakers were ugly, rusted out hulks of cars that were destined for the scrapyard. This one was in beautiful shape, with no noticeable rust or imperfections. My favourite Larks are the 1959-61 model years and the 1964-66 model years.

the horse power ratings of the r1 to r5 engines were a lot more than stated.. Dino HP tests show that..we had a 289 r1 lark ..253 hp not 240 a 3.07 diff ratio , Automatic avanti gearbox and got a top speed of 142 mph , the car was transported from the USA to NZ fully recond motor with geniune 289 avanti parts incliding new r1 cam and bearings etc Pete

If the factory ratings were net figures, I would say 253 hp was probably just on the strong side of normal production variation or reflected a particularly sharp rebuild that put everything to factory spec. However, the 240 hp factory rating is a gross figure and thus is considerably more than a production engine with stock accessories and exhaust would produce at the clutch. A 253 hp figure at the clutch would be more like what I’d expect of a blueprinted R2, honestly.

Aaron, as usual, this is a great and thoroughly researched article with many interesting facets. I recall many Larks from the days of my childhood, as well as a Studebaker dealership building that "endured," complete with its Lazy S painted on the wall, long after Studebaker was forgotten. The issues regarding its demise, which you have outlined in a number of articles, sound correct to me, having grown up in the area where Studebaker (sometimes called "Steadybuckers") and Notre Dame were part of everyday life.

There are many opinions on the demise of Studebaker, and of Packard, and (as one less than generous poster has observed) the failure of many other once-great marques. However, I think that your outlines have pretty much hit the mark (no pun intended!) on both Studebaker and Packard. It seems to be a quality of human nature, that a scapegoat must be identified as the cause of any tragedy or accident — perhaps it relieves the mind of having to comprehend the interplay of many complex issues and trends.

I do want to point out one error in your fine article here: You said, "[the McCullough supercharger] also saw a fair amount of racing use, most notably with Novi’s Indianapolis 500 racers…" which is incorrect.

Before WW2, Ford engine rebuilder and racing enthusiast Lew Welch worked with Bud Winfield (one of the famous Winfield brothers) to lay out the Novi V8 for use in the Harry Miller designed Ford racers that ran (sort of) in the 1935 Memorial Day race. Ed and Bud Winfield then took their drawings and ideas to Offenhauser’s designer, Leo Goosen, who designed a V8 in the typical Peugeot-Miller-Offenhauser way: Two cast iron blocks with integral DOHC two valve heads. bolted to a barrel crankcase. Like the Flathead Ford that the Novi replaced, the motor had three main bearings, retained in the barrel crankcase in the Miller way by diaphragm bulkheads retained by tabs. Unlike the Ford V8, however, the Novi used a flat crankshaft.

Goosen had considerable experience designing superchargers, going all the way back to the first Miller implementations of the 1920s. For the Novi, he took power off of the front of the crank where the timing gears were mounted, ran a shaft in the "V" where a pushrod V8’s cam is located, and mounted the supercharger at the back of the block. By this time Goosen was treading a well-trodden path, as tremendous inertial forces accompanied the 10" impeller spinning at 43,000 rpm, which would wreck any drivetrain from loading and unloading of the drive gears as the engine accelerated and decelerated.

The solution to this (which took many forms in various Miller-based engines) was to make the supercharger driveshaft act as a torsion bar, which is what Goosen also did in the Novi design.

The Novi soldiered on for years, tilting against the 4 cylinder Offenhauser/Meyer-Drakes, until in 1960, Lew Welch sold his cars, engines and parts to the Granatellis, who were involved with Paxton at the time, as you have noted. The Granatellis used their experience and dyno testing to note that the old Goosen-designed supercharger was very inefficient. They enlisted the help of long-time Indianapolis mechanic Jean Marcenac (whose experience went all the way back to his days with Ralph de Palma and Tommy Milton, as well as his leading role with the legendary Frank Lockhart) to sort out the supercharger, which was reduced to 8" in diameter, as well as having redesigned vanes. Also, the housing was reshaped and redesigned.

The new supercharger raised horsepower (on the Granatelli/Paxton dyno) from around 500 to 640, and the new supercharger produced 35 psi, versus only 25 psi. Fuel consumption was also dramatically reduced (always a sore point with the Novi), indicating that the old supercharger was consuming excessive amounts of power and turning it into heat.

My point to this long-winded post is to note that the Indianapolis Novi superchargers, both old and new, were not Paxton units, although Paxton research was included in the second version by the Granatellis.

This story is told in many places, but for this post, I have referred to Gordon Eliot White’s book "Offenhauser" and Roger Huntington’s book, "Design and Development of the Indy Car."

Thanks for the correction and the information on the Novi — I took out that reference in the text. I admit my knowledge of pure racing engines is at best marginal. I don’t follow racing as a sport, so what I do know centers on stock cars and rallying, and that mainly to understand the politics of homologation as they affect production cars.

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